


envoie des photos nus

by android



Category: Granblue Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fingering, Dialogue Heavy, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Phone Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, alcohol mention (brief), it kind of has plot but it's missing you just don't know about it?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2020-10-29
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:14:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27257770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/android/pseuds/android
Summary: Belial’s voice is disgustingly attractive, and shamefully, Sandalphon doesn’t doubt he could get off listening to it… which is exactly what Belial is trying to goad him into doing.
Relationships: Belial/Sandalphon (Granblue Fantasy)
Comments: 27
Kudos: 65





	envoie des photos nus

**Author's Note:**

> this started as a joke AU between a friend and i where Sandalphon has my job-- without giving too much away, essentially a customer service rep who speaks to other companies to sell products within his own company-- where Belial is one of the "vendors" Sandalphon is assigned to. 
> 
> now, it is porn.
> 
> i haven't written fic in a long, long time. i hope it's ok!

“C’mon, Sandy,” Belial drawls through the phone. “Be honest. You’ve thought about it before.”

When all that Sandalphon gives him is a scoff and a put upon sigh-- a short, irritated breath through his nose-- Belial continues. Of course, he does.

“You heard my voice before you saw me, after all. Or, maybe you need a little reminder of what you told me when we went out to that bar--”

Pandemonium. Sandalphon does _not_ need a reminder.

“ _No._ ” Sandalphon’s reply is curt and final— not that it means Belial will accept it as final— because he remembers just fine. He remembers, through an alcohol-induced haze, telling Belial how he felt when he first heard his voice. It’s a little fuzzy, but he remembers dramatic hand gestures, fist slamming, and the words: “unfairly hot. stupid hot.” 

It _is_ true though; Belial’s voice is disgustingly attractive, and shamefully, Sandalphon doesn’t doubt he could get off listening to it… which is exactly what Belial is trying to goad him into doing.

“I think you used the words, ‘unfairly hot,’ and got upset with me because your ‘heart was trying to escape through your di—’”

“ _Stop._ ” Sandalphon nearly shouts the word into the phone, hastily commenting over Belial’s laughter, “I have no issues with hanging up on you.”

Belial’s laughter settles down, but the amusement is still present in his voice.

“Really, none at all? Even though I won’t see you for at least another week?” 

Sandalphon doesn’t answer. He doesn’t answer because Belial has a point and has effectively gotten under Sandalphon’s skin. Maybe it’s fine. Maybe they can try this. As if he’s aware Sandalphon is deliberating, Belial follows up on Sandalphon’s silence. 

“Could it be? Is Sandy rethinking my offer?”

“I can rethink it again,” Sandaphon snaps in what they’re both aware is an empty threat. Everything just works out too well in favor of Belial’s idea; Sandalphon is positive they were closing the gap to someone staying the night at someone else’s apartment (if it were Belial’s, Sandalphon isn’t sure if he’d be able to stomach the _“I’m wealthy”_ vibes it’d definitely give off), and the times they have been able to meet for clandestine trysts have been amazing, as loathe as Sandalphon would be to admit this to Belial. 

“Mm. So, what’ll it be, then? It’s a Friday night, I’m all alone in this empty hotel room—”

Sandalphon grimaces. Yeah, how sad. He’s sure it’s bigger than his entire apartment.

“—when I thought I’d be taking care of a little sparrow.”Belial is definitely alluding to them spending the night together… he thinks, but then there’s that nickname. Belial has called him that a few times, now, and he isn’t sure where it came from or why that’s the almost-literal-pet name Belial has chosen, but, for some reason it makes Sandalphon feel warm.

“Huh. ‘Taking care of’ is an interesting way of saying ‘sucking off.’” 

Sandalphon can hear Belial exhale in a short, quiet laugh, and Sandalphon decides to _allow_ his lips to turn up into a smile.

“Is this your idea of the long game, or stalling? Or are you that vanilla?”

There goes the smile. Sandalphon feels his face flush hot with flustered irritation. 

“I am _not_ a prude, or anything, if that’s what you’re getting at. I’ll do it, then, but this isn’t a free show, you’d better be doing it, too.”  
  
“That’s the idea.”

Damn. That was meant to be an attempt to put the ball in Belial’s court, but apparently Sandalphon has been holding it with his pants down the whole time. He doesn’t have a witty comeback, nor does he know how to progress now that he’s agreed to do this with Belial. Thankfully, Belial throws him a line, even if it makes Sandalphon want to roll his eyes.

“Tell me what you’re wearing.”  
  
“This already sounds like a bad porno.” 

“If you aren’t going to tell me, how am I supposed to picture you stripping for me? You can't rush into this, Sandy. You have to set the mood.”

Sandalphon lets out another irritated sigh that Belial has either been undeterred by or is getting his rocks off to. It isn't as if Sandalphon has never fucked around with someone before, but never even the phone— not over text and not over a call. He glances down at himself, at what he's wearing, and feels it's all far from interesting or attractive. 

“I’m—… It's boring.”

“Have a little confidence. I wouldn't ask if I didn't want to hear, right~?”

There's an automatic wince at Belial’s comment. Shit, he hadn't meant to let that slip and he's getting tired of Belial making points that are actually, for the most part, valid. It doesn't mean Sandalphon won't act bothered, though Belial seems to be into the attitude, anyway. Somehow. 

He thinks. 

“...just… ugh. Just a shirt and boxers. That's it. Is that doing it for you? Are you hard now?”

“I want to see you in one of my shirts. I bet you'd look _adorable._ ”

Oh. What Belial says is… unexpected, and Sandalphon feels his heart skip a beat and the heat rush to his face. Why? Why is Belial saying that so appealing? Is it because Sandalphon has never worn a “boyfriend shirt” before, or because Belial said it so readily? Like he'd thought about it before… Sandalphon is mindful about the way he swallows. He doesn't want Belial to hear it. 

“Yeah? I’m guessing boxers would be optional in that scenario?”

Belial is so good at flirting and dishing out compliments— dangerous— 

“You _could_ wear them, but they’d just be coming back off. You've got a great ass and even better legs. I’m getting hard just thinking about getting my dick in between those thighs.”

He's getting warm. Lifting his hips off the bed, Sandalphon starts to shove his boxers down his hips with one hand. Where the fabric drags against his hardening dick makes his breath catch. 

“Oh? If I had to guess, you've ditched the boxers. That, or you've taken the plunge and shoved your hand into them.” 

Scoffing into the phone, Sandalphon leans his head against his shoulder and presses his cheek against the phone to keep it in place as he sits up to grab lube out of his bedside drawer. Yeah, he bought some. So what? Maybe it was in preparation, maybe it was just for— he stops thinking, unsure why he's trying to defend him to… well, himself. 

“Unless you wanted the color and brand of my boxers, too, it seemed like the next logical step. What about you? What are you wearing.”

The reply comes quick.

“Nothing.”

Nothing? Sandalphon sputters. “What was it you said about rushing things and setting the mood?” 

“Send me a picture of yourself.”

Ah. Sandalphon’s heart leaps up into his throat again, a little surprised at Belial’s request and how sudden it is. He expected some more banter, not… this. 

“A… a picture? Of— I’ve never sent— I’ve never even taken a picture of myself like that.”

“I don't believe you, but I'll help you out. I'll send one of me, first.”

At Belial’s immediate shooting down of Sandalphon’s claims, he frowns, but Belial also isn't entirely wrong. Sure, maybe he's taken a few only to get embarrassed and angrily delete them, but never to send. Oh, there's the text— Sandalphon takes the phone away from his ear to switch away from the call and over to his text messages and oh, okay, wow, Belial wasn't joking about wearing nothing. Sandalphon feels the heat spread through his face, and lower— way lower— and… and it’s okay if he indulges a little and zooms in here and there, right? Belial sent this to him; it’s _for_ Sandalphon. 

God, Belial is so fit, it’s unfair. Sandalphon barely finds the time to workout with the way his schedule is, so how does Belial? Is that what it’s like to have a good job and better pay? You have time?

Suddenly, Sandalphon realized he's hearing a voice, a little far away-sounding. Shit. Why hadn't he just put Belial on speaker?

“Heeeey. Sandy? You still there? You wouldn't leave me to get off all by myself, would you?”

Flustered, Sandalphon zooms out on the picture Belial has sent him and brings his phone to his ear again. 

“Would you wait a minute! I'm taking the picture!”

“Nothing to say about mine?”

Sandalphon pauses. He pulls the phone away so that he can look at the picture Belial sent.. Belial looks… amazing. Sandalphon wants to run his hands over his chest, he wants to feel Belial's hands grip his thighs, wants to do more than just suck Belial off— he brings the phone back to his ear. 

“You look okay.”

Belial laughs, free and easy. 

“The highest praise.”

“Shut up and let me do this, already. I'm not putting you on speaker. I'm muting.”

“Okaaay. Don't keep me waiting too long.”

Rolling his eyes-- and despite how much more eager Sandalphon is feeling about getting off-- Sandalphon scoffs before muting the microphone on his phone. 

It requires a few tries, but Sandalphon eventually settles for a picture of himself with his shirt pushed up as far as it can go, his boxers still left haphazardly pushed down, dick out, hard against his stomach. The hand not holding his phone is left on his thigh, where Sandalphon had tried to push his boxers down a little more without moving too much. The angle cuts his face out of the picture right above his nose, but he doesn't want to do this forever. It’s fine. Sandalphon sends it, waits a moment, then unmutes. 

“Hey. Did you get it?”

Belial doesn't answer at first, and Sandalphon feels his blood run cold. Did he not like it? Was he fucking around? Did Belial hang up on him? 

“ _Fuck_ , you look good.”

Oh. Sandalphon goes from cold to boiling hot in a split second, and a lot of that heat coils right below his gut. 

“Have I told you how much I love your legs?”

“Yes.” Sandalphon’s answer is immediate and nearly deadpan. 

“Ha. You know, it's a shame I haven't fucked those thighs yet. If you really had choked me with them the last time, I—…”

As Belial babbles on— “babbles,” as if Sandalphon isn't biting his lip at nearly everything he's said— Sandalphon grabs the lube he'd fetched before and pauses. All this talk is really making him want… he really— Sandalphon really wants Belial to fuck him. It's terrible, Belial is terrible, but he does. So, what if he… if he just tried… with his fingers…

Sandalphon bends over and lifts his hips into the air, puts his weight on his chest and his knees. It's going to be a little awkward, but he can't get rid of the urge. 

“Sandy? You still there? Go back to looking at that picture of me and get lost in a fantasy?”

Sandalphon is quiet for a moment until he slides that first slicked up finger inside himself. His breath catches and he groans and— and apparently fingering himself has given him a change of heart. 

“... show me more. Show me. I want to see you touching yourself.”

It’s Belial’s turn to give pause, but his is shorter and doesn't end with fingering himself. Probably. 

“Oh? Starting without me?” Belial's voice sounds dark, predatory, and Sandalphon wants to let himself fall prey. “I won't say no, but, fair’s fair, right~? You'll have to send me one too.”

He makes another sound as he eases a second finger into himself, and if it sounds like an irritated groan rather than one of pleasure, it's not far off, because he isn't taking his fingers out of his ass now to take a selfie. 

“You started this. Why should I have to send another?”

The next question catches Sandalphon off guard. 

“Where are your hands?” 

“What?” The frustration in his voice isn't feigned. Can't Belial just listen for once? “On my dick. Where else?” It’s not a total lie, _one_ hand is, keeping himself feeling good as his eases into this, but—

“Both of them?”

Fuck.

“No…” Sandalphon exhales shakily as he moves his fingers just enough to get something out of it; the stillness is uncomfortable and he didn’t stick his fingers up his ass to _not move them._ He can’t tell if the heat on his face is his phone starting to get hot or his flushed cheeks. “Not both.”

Belial chuckles, a low rumble that makes Sandalphon grit his teeth to resist the sounds his throat wants to make; it’s like he can _feel_ Belial laugh.

“Then, where? This only works if you tell me what you’re doing, Sandy.” 

Sandalphon knows he’s right, or at least what he’s saying makes sense, but his stubbornness urges him to argue. For once, he opts not to listen.

“It’s— I’m…” Sandalphon makes a frustrated sound and tries to work some of that frustration out by scissoring his fingers a little. His breath catches in his throat and Sandalphon _whines_ , his conviction to not making too much noise forgotten already. “Belial, _please_.”

“Are you choosing now to be shy?” Belial laughs again, and it’s just as insufferably attractive as the others before it. There’s a pause from Belial and Sandalphon pauses, too. He curses internally, wishes Belial would knock the teasing off. It’s enough. Sandalphon wants to get off. Doesn’t Belial? Isn’t that the reason they’re doing this?

Belial speaks, and his voice cuts through the silence like a wave crashing over Sandalphon, pulling him under. He’s drowning, but he isn’t resisting; Belial’s voice is so low and deep and warm and sensual that Sandalphon doesn’t care.

“Are you fingering yourself?” 

“ _Yes_.” The word escapes Sandalphon in a rush like it’d been waiting to be let out, and that’s not entirely wrong. It feels like he’s been given the okay to do this, now that the secret is in the open. Deep down Sandalphon is sure it was never much of a secret; Belial is scarily intuitive. “Yeah. I am.” 

The sound Belial makes is almost too breathy to be a laugh, but Sandalphon is sure that’s what it is. 

“Before we’ve even fucked? Sandy, that-- _ha_ , I had no idea you wanted my cock that badly.” 

The way Belial’s voice breaks in the middle, coupled with the breathy quality his voice has suddenly taken on… the realization comes over Sandalphon that Belial must be touching himself, too, now. Dammit. This is hotter than Sandalphon expected and more than it has any right to be. He bites down on his lip hard enough for it to border on skin-breaking, trying to steel himself to keep his voice steady in what Sandalphon has decided is a battle of witty quips.

“I agreed to get off with you over the phone. Did you think that meant I didn’t want to fuck you?”

Another laugh, this one a little more strained. Sandalphon has had it with Belial’s laughter; he can only take so much of it when his dick is hard in his hand and his fingers are up his ass and he’s desperate to get off. He wonders if Belial’s perceptiveness lets him hear the way his breath catches in the aftermath of the tremors Belial’s laugh sends through his body. 

“Mm, you’re adorable when you try to put on a front. You can pretend you’re pissed, but...” Belial swallows, hard, and he’s much more free with the sounds he makes. He moans right into the microphone, and Sandalphon buries his face in his blanket to stifle himself when his body responds in turn. “You’re the one with your fingers up your ass, here. You _want_ me.” 

Belial says the last few words on a ragged breath, and Sandalphon’s hips jump. He tries to pull himself together quickly, despite being certain his voice gives him away.

“I just said I wanted you. Do you ever _listen_ or do you just like the sound of your own voice?”  
  
“Well... _you_ do.”

A direct hit. Sandalphon can’t even argue. He doesn’t know what to say, just fists his dick a little tighter and admits his defeat with a moan he lets out unrestrained. 

“What a nice sound,” Belial croons. “You’ll be making a lot more when it’s me inside you.” 

_Fuck._ Sandalphon thinks he may have said that aloud, too, the word barely audible through his clenched teeth as he tries to adjust himself on the bed to where he can open himself up easier. He’s drooled around Belial’s dick before, and is drooling now thinking about it inside of him. Belial isn’t scarily huge but he isn’t average. He’s—… _dammit._ This was all a terrible idea, because now what else is Sandalphon supposed to think of? Not getting fucked? 

“Yeah?” Sandalphon does his best to keep up the banter. He’s so hard, his cock slick with precum and a telltale tugging at his middle letting him know he just needs a little more, whether or not he wants it to end. “Is that a promise? I’ll— I’ll hold you to it.”

“Yeah. Next time I see you, I’ll fuck that tight little ass of yours _good_ , make sure that just fingers aren’t good enough anymore—”

Sandalphon has finally gotten into it and has relaxed enough for his fingers to get where he _needs_ them, and he cries out on reflex, a wanton and salacious sound, Belial’s name not long after it. 

“ _Belial—_ ” 

It’s hard to focus, but Sandalphon can hear it, Belial’s breath coming heavier, faster; the noises he makes are much less missable and outdo Sandalphon in indecency by far— though, considering Sandalphon is still _kind of_ trying to show some restraint... Belial, on the other hand, doesn’t seem to harbor any kind of shame when it comes to pleasure; he’s loud, he’s open, he’s unrestrained and Sandalphon is one-hundred-percent here for it— but, privately. If he admitted that to Belial, he knows Belial would never shut up. 

Sandalphon rocks his hips into his hand, thrusts back against his fingers, that coiling heat in his stomach unbearable, now. He can feel where the blanket underneath has gotten wet with his saliva, but he has no room to care.

“Ohh, _yes,_ ” Belial’s voice is dripping with ecstasy, and Sandalphon guesses he’s not far off, either. Shutting his eyes tightly, he tries to imagine Belial, those long fingers wrapped around his cock with his phone up to his ear, or next to him like Sandalphon has his own placed next to his head. He never sent Sandalphon that other picture.

How would it feel to have Belial come inside him? 

“Say my name like that again, little sparrow. Come on, push me over the edge. Make noise. Who else is listening but me?” 

Sandalphon’s tongue feels heavy and awkward, but he obliges, voice a little weak, at first. It builds up as his release edges closer. 

“Belial… Belial, _Belial—_ ah—!”

Body seizing with pleasure, Sandalphon’s back arches as white streaks both his hand and the bedsheets, he rides it out, ass still in the air as he lets himself relax and falls onto the bed, panting. If Belial’s made any noise, he’s missed it. A shame-- and he means it. In his post-orgasm haze, he asks a question he’ll no doubt come to regret:  
  
“Was that supposed to be so good?”

Belial must have finished, too; he sounds like he’s making a big effort to catch his breath. Had he turned away from the phone?

“You’re setting the bar _far_ too low, Sandy! I’m worried that when I _wreck you,_ you aren’t going to know what to do with how good I’ll make you feel.”

Sandalphon’s face is flushed, but Belial can’t see that, so he’s free to act as unaffected, unimpressed and disappointed by Belial’s comments as he wants.

“Enough, already. Besides, you don’t even know when you’ll be back in town.”

“Oh,” the smirk is palpable in Belial’s voice, “but isn’t the wait part of the fun? Delayed gratification, and all that. Surely you know--”  
  
“ _Yes,_ I _know._ ” Sandalphon has to cut Belial off before he embarrasses him by trying to explain it, flustering Sandalphon in the process and getting to tease him for being embarrassed all in the same vein. 

There’s silence for a bit, just the sound of the two of them breathing, and if it weren’t for the way a phone gives a person’s voice that tinny sound, Sandalphon would feel like Belial were laying beside him. 

“... so.”

“So?” Sandalphon isn't sure what bullshit is going to follow that ‘so’ and isn't sure if he should be inviting it. 

“It all started with my voice, and now, here you are, finishing to my voice, hm?”

Sandalphon nearly bolts upright in bed.

“Stop! Shut up. You were just a contact for a company I was assigned to, and we only spoke through email, I thought you were a decent human being before I heard your voice—”

“— and am I an indecent human being, now?”

Sandalphon makes a strained, irritated noise under his breath; a kettle about to boil. 

“Sorry, sorry,” Belial laughs, the sound low and languid. “Relax, Sandy, I’m only teasing. You're adorable, you know? When I get back I'll visit your office. I could fuck the tension right out of you, wouldn't that be nice~?”

“My office?! Absolutely not!” He’s horrified. Completely horrified. Where does Belial think he could do that? Why does he want to!

“Come on. _That’s_ where you draw the line? That’s so boring, Sandy.”

“ _You_ have your own office! _I’m_ in an open office full of people!”

“Oh, that’s right. My office.”

Sandalphon sputters and grips his phone tight, like it's the one offending him and not Belial. 

“Why do you want to fuck at work so badly! Can’t you at least fuck me at home first?!”

“ _First?_ You are willing, then.” 

Making it clear that he wants to be fucked in a bed— or at least somewhere or on something in one of their homes— Sandalphon replies again, stern, “At home.”

“First.”

Sandalphon scoffs and then sighs before getting too worked up. Let it out. 

“Goodnight, Belial.”

“G’night, Sandy. Make sure you think about me a little more before you sleep.”

Belial hangs up, and when the call disappears, Sandalphon is left with his text messages from Belial open. There's another picture, now: the aftermath. It's a picture of Belial’s chest, streaked with cum, fingers frozen at his abs where they must have been dragging down. Belial’s face is visible, too, unlike his own photo, and Sandalphon can see his tongue poking out. Ugh. 

He stares for a long moment before shoving his phone away from him, nearly off the bed and onto the floor, and in the next moment Sandalphon is burying his face in his pillow and kicking his legs. 

Fuck. He is in so much trouble.

**Author's Note:**

> sorry @ the belisan server i've showed you so many WIPs and i dont know if this will be good enough........... and @ the general belisan audience if this well-liked enough i'll try to write a follow-up chapter where they do the full sex
> 
> thanks for reading!!!!! 
> 
> and thanks @ my pal quinn for beta-ing this, i love you, thanks for always having a backpack for my applesauce,  
> backpack where belial keeps his ap-ple-sauce  
> belial has the applesauce that sandalphon craves
> 
> eve  
> ry  
> body  
> catch this belisan wave
> 
> (i haven't slept properly in a week)


End file.
